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#it was like such a tiny interaction but i also never forgot

mrchiipchrome · 18 days

Text

Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

#woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #stay tuned for the Alessia fic it’s currently at 9.6 k words:)

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pawified · 3 months

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Okay but like imagine trying to visit father figure bf! Nanami while also trying to avoid seeing your dad o__o like Nanami’s probably all like never come see me at work or whatever & you just can’t help surprising him in his office or something n’ he just gives a slight scowl & a big ole kiss or something idk I’m in love

hweo littl anonie ! ur brain is so magical nd im obsessed wif it! here is a treat for waitin patiently for your request ! 𐂯 ! ⊹

to give everyone a break frm all da smut nd wht not here is a tiny but might drabble abt visiting your dad’s boss at work

( for more context read dis / / also !! i love private school uniforms so i gave this au a uniform for college! )

— pls dnt mind da spelling errors . . is almost 3 am nd im fully of energy

ding! you stepped off the elevator, thick mary janes clack against the marble floor as you reach two big spotless floor to ceiling crystal glass doors with a sign that read Jujitsu Law Firm.

you had just gotten out of school, you had no other plans for the day so you decided to stop by your boyfriend’s workplace and surprise him right after school.

the only issue is you’d forgot to pack a change of clothes in your bag for school so you have to wear your uniform. not that it matters but you’d have like to show up to your big time boyfriends job in more of a presentable manner than this but oh well!

pushing the door open, you are met with a big reception desk and classical music playing in the background with the ambient light accompanying. you look around taking everything in before being interrupted.

a women no older than twenty-eight, speaks. “uh, may i help you?” you look down at her desk, you spot a name plate; ‘Mako.’ you read.

“yes! hello, i’m here for Nanami Kento, please.” you give her a smile.

she stares back at you with a raised brow, looking you up and down, taking in your appearance. still sporting your schools outfit, you are dressed in a white button up polo, a red, white and gold neck tie, a oversized navy blue cardigan paired with a black skirt and leg warms.

“do you have an appointment with Mr.Kento.” she all but rudely says. An appointment? why would you need an appointment to see your own boyfriend.

“ uh no. could you please tell him that- “ she cuts you off before you could even finish. “sorry kid, but you can’t see him without an appointment.” her tone irritated with the interaction between you two.

kid? did you really look that young? you’re only twenty-three. before you could spit out a remark on her horrible communication skills, your dotting boyfriend appears from around the corner.

“ ♡ ? “ you turn around, seeing your boyfriend standing there with a surprised look on his face.

“surprise!” you said adorably, walking over and reaching up on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck, his assistant long forgotten. he pulls away taking in your attire, cute as ever he thinks.

“what are you doing here, princess?” still surprised you came and visited him despite voicing your worries about your father being at the office nonetheless finding out about you two, but you put your worries aside and came anyways. kento’s sweet, sweet, girl.

“well i wanted to surprise you, plus . . i missed you.” you shyly stated at the end, looking down and kicking the imaginary dust off your shoes. kento thinks about how soft spoken and gentle you are..always wanting attention, he finds it cute; finds you cute.

“well considered me surprised baby” he almost can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from how embarrassed you are, his heart almost gives out. “are you hungry puppy?” there he goes again, using that nickname that always leaves you wanting more. “have you ate?” he asks again. As if on queue your stomach growls, answering for you.

now in his office, stomach full and plate of food forgotten, you watch kento as he is working at his desk and you are sat on the opposite side. “staring is impolite you know?” he says assumingly.

“i- what, i- wasn’t staring at you.” you rushed out, flustered. kento laughs. his laugh is from deep in his chest, the one that warms your heart and makes you smile. “whatever.” you grumble out.

having enough of his teasing, you stand up from your seat and make your way around the desk, pulling his office chair out to make room for you to squeeze onto his lap.

you place your legs in between the arm holes of the chair that way you are blocking his view from the computer screen, “princess, i can’t see.” you loop your arms around his neck, “that’s the point, gimme kiss.” you whine, kento rolls his eyes playfully and chuckles “so needy..always kento i want , kento gimme, but you never say your please’s or thank you’s.”

he pinches your side, never breaking eye contact. “whoever is teaching you your manners needs to do better. you’re a spoiled brat.” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning in, kissing your cheek.

you huff, frustrated at not getting your way, “kento just gimme a kiss already-.” you hiss at the conact of a firm smack against your thigh, “so got damn bossy.” he leans in pecking your lips, two times before giving in.

slotting his tongue into your mouth. when kento kisses you like this, it’s like he is trying to take your soul and breath away, you whine trying to pull him closer you grip at his collar and rock your hips, you deepen the kiss by moving your tongue against his; its so messy, it makes your dizzy.

“please, please more gimme” you pant, trying to pull him even closer if that’s possible. his hands has a firm grip on your waist that youre sure will leave a bruise but you couldn’t care less, not when he feels this good.

kento could tell that you are getting desperate. he knows that you are probably teary eyed, sometimes you get to needy and desperate that you don’t think anymore.

“hold on pup, let’s take a breath, yeah?” you whine when he tries to pull away from you. kento is correct, your big doe eyes are teary and you look a wreck. your school uniform is disheveled, skirt is twisted; along with your cardigan that’s halfway off your shoulders.

before either you and kento could continue a knock comes from the door.

“Mr.Kento, Have you seen my daughter? i heard she came to stop by!” your father.

#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#𝑝𝑎𝑤 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑠 . . .ฅ𐙚ฅ #𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑖 — ♡ ᵎ #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #father figure bf!nanami #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x you #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami #nanami smut #nanami calls reader puppy

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sleepingdayaway · 9 months

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You're my baby and I love you so much!

I got Hyrule Warriors on the switch and I was able to get Young Link unlocked as a warrior. Just seeing him and how tiny he is makes me love him even more. Idk if it's obvious yall but I might have favorites (Time)

Characters: Warriors, Time (younger version), Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of fights? We're in Hyrule Warriors yall

The air was tense.

The screeching of bokoblins following the attack of hyrulian soldiers.

The pains of anguish from said soldiers as they fought back against them.

Currently the Princess of Hyrule is leading an army against the opposing commander of the monsters around Hyrule field. Being completely honest, this was a unexpected attack but who ever is leading was pretty damn good.

Taking the charging attack on the final keep was the Legendary Hero, Link. Who recently saved the castle from the forces of Ganon. It was supposed to be another simple clean up, since there are still monsters from when the portals brought them in from different ages.

Including other warriors from those ages; Daruina, Ruto, Fi, Midna, Agitha. They all helped to protect their homes from the evil that wanted to spread across the realms. Gradually, with long and enduring battles with a few close calls did their efforts finally show.

But that meant that whatever was leaked out was still around, and that meant having to continue fighting.

The training sword cuts through flawlessly in the enemies, as Link expertly moves through the the fight. Never once removing his eyes from the monsters in front of him, which made him slightly vulnerable from behind.

A huge bokoblin notices this small error, and sneaks up with it's weapon at the ready. Making sure that he's surrounded as the others distract him, it lunges for a strike before it gets knocked down suddenly. The surrounding bokoblins jumps away when the body falls to the ground, they all screech in realization and furiously turn towards the person that attacked.

There stood [Name] with a huge frown on their face as they readied their weapons, twin cross bows. Credits to Linkle who happily lent them extras. Zeroing in on the monsters without hesitation as they backed up Link, speeding up on taking over the keep.

Once the rest of the soldiers appear to take over on guarding did they both rest for a bit. Link, sheepishly stared at [Name], as said person narrowed their eyes at him.

"You need to watch out from behind too, I can't warn you like how I used to, Link."

"I know, I'm sorry. I guess I got used to you always being with me, that I forgot you have an actual physical body now."

This was something they also were getting used to, being physically in the battle and not just controlling Link. When [Name] first appeared they panicked and refused to interact with anyone since they were afraid that the others would assume that they were a spy. Thankfully, it was Lana who found the [hair color] first and helped before leading them to the others; it wasn't until the battle was over did they all finally introduce each other.

Link recognized their voice immediately, the person who helped him during the war, and latched onto them like a leech.

Now here they were assisting everyone in making sure everything goes smoothly. Only 1 keep remains and it's the final one, the one that holds the person that orchestrated this attack.

Sprinting across the land to reach the final keep before they could think about running away. Link and [Name] made it to one of the entrances as they prepared their weapons.

Looking inside the building, it was filled with the other monsters that filled the other keeps. Except in the middle where it appears they're all surrounding their leader.

The sound of the monsters fades away as the familiar melody of an ocarina fills their ears. Link tights his grip on the master sword as he prepares his body to attack, meanwhile [Name] perks up at the melody, having recognized it from somewhere.

The song plays before it falters for a moment. It picks up again, but stops once more as if they're trying to play by memory.

The monsters part out of the way, so [Name] and Link can see the figure much more clearly.

A small child, who looks no older than 10 years old stands with his back facing them, a mask resting on the belt stares at the duo. As if knowing they were behind him; did he put the ocarina away before fixing the mask on his head. The other mask is still boring holes onto them, a dark menacing aura flows freely from it.

Until it stops.

The blonde turns around as he places the mask over his face; pulling out a sword that's slightly bigger than him and swings it around clumsily. That causes the Keaton mask to slip from his face, but he catches it before it call fall to the ground. Rearranging it to it's original position on his head.

He lifts up the sword again and looks up at [Name] and Link. A smile on his face.

How do they explain to Zelda that this is a child who looks exactly like fucking Link.

Link's grip on his sword falters, a child-

There was no way he could harm one. It must be some sort of twisted joke, but it couldn't be. Before heading over here the entire army searched every inch of land to make sure everything was cleared.

The Hero looks at his companion to see if they could do something that doesn't involve fighting, but he noticed that they're no longer next to him. Instead [Name] has already jumped in; their crossbows discarded on the ground.

Now, in their arms in the young boy, who looks up at the [hair color] person as they held him close. "LINKKKK- OH LOOK HOW SMALL YOU ARE"

The boy, Link, scrunches his face at their voice before they widen once he realized who was holding him.

A grin grows on his face as he tried to embrace [Name] back with his small limbs. Which in turn causes them to cry at the action.

Quickly rushing in to finish off the monsters that surrounded them, (Warriors) Link attacked the enemies as the other two hold each other.

Warrior's made sure they're all gone before staring at the duo with a dumbfounded expression. "Uh, sorry for interrupting a heartfelt moment, but how do you two know each other?"

[Name] looks at him before setting down Young Link, "Well, for starters he's also another person that I helped before-"

Young Link, once on the ground throws himself back towards them and attached his body at [Name's] hip.

That causes them to choke up again as tears welled up in their eyes.

"Augh-! You're my baby! You're my baby and I love you so much-"

#lu x reader #linked universe imagine #linked universe x reader #player au #linked universe warriors #link x reader #a player's aid #linked universe time #reader insert #legend of zelda x reader

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raapija · 3 months

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I'm curious (read invested) do you have a time line in mind for the strollonso au? Like when they met, got engaged, got married

In my pookie au, which I set most of my edits into, it goes something like this.... THIS IS GONNA BE LONG OH LORD, I have a whole thing formulated in my brain and writing is down is gonna be a struggle

2014-2015 They met for the first time very briefly as Fernando was visiting the Ferrari Academy drivers at Prema. Note that Lance is a massive Fernando fan since he was a kid, so this was like meeting his hero. Nando immediately forgot about this meeting as it was just a promotional thing, very sad :(

2017 Lance debuts in F1 at Williams, he's about 19yo and still a massive Nando fan but they rarely interact with each other (see, 'shy canadian rookie'). Sure, they talk every now and then, but no sparks yet...

2018 This is where it starts to get interesting. Nando is struggling (and when I say struggling I mean STRUGGLING) at McLaren and his interest starts to waver which leads to his little fixation on Lance. It started out pretty tame and harmless with Nando writing little notes/letters to him and hiding them around the Williams garage (no one knows how he did it without getting caught) and Lance's belongings. He gets more invested in this than driving the McLaren GP2 engine shitbox.

Eventually Nando gathers up enough courage to ask the 20 year old man out. To his absolute horror and shock, the kid says "yeah, sure" and that's how they began dating. For the remainder of 2018, they keep it strictly to themselves, not telling anyone in case their relationship gets leaked. Lots of hotel room slumber parties, discreet dinner dates and traveling in the same planes between races.

Fun little side story I got is that in 2018, Lance, Fernando and Lando took part as team LANCELANDONANDO (hilarious, I know) in the 24h of Daytona ✨ They finished like... 50th, but it was a big deal since Lando was a tiny little baby boy and Nando was a bit of a mentor to him. (see, 'nando never got kids of his own but really wants to be a father figure)

2019-2020 Nando decides to "retire" from F1 after losing all his ambition to drive because of McLaren draining the life force out of him. Now that Nando isn't in F1, they can make their relationship public since the conflict of interest is no longer an issue.

2019 is a rather dark time for Lance, as the media rips him to shreds for 1) dating a man, 2) being almost 20 years younger AND 3) the person he's dating just happens to be Fernando Alonso. He's called every name under the sun, constantly ridiculed and the fans pretty much turn against him. He tries to avoid all the drama by becoming more closed in and even more shy around people.

Fernando, on the other hand, is off doing indy and endurance racing. He's pretty outspoken about their relationship and does his best to gain respect for Lance, always praising him and telling nice things about him. This starts to work after a while as the media starts to forget about the whole thing.

Nando would visit the F1 grid from time to time and Lance would be at his indy races. Eventually it became normal to see them together and act like a couple and the fans started to support them, so the media did a complete 180°. Now it was a race to get the best Strollonso story in the papers...

During this time also, Lance starts to visit Fernando's karting school a lot more and after a while becomes a key part in its operation. He would volunteer as a race director for the kids' tournaments, pop in as a guest coach or just help around with whatever they were doing. He would become a bit of a celebrity in that community of young drivers and really like spending time there.

2021 Surprise! Fernando gets bored of the other stuff and unretires himself to come back into F1 with Alpine! Before this Lance, Nando, Alpine and Aston Martin have a proper sit-down with FIA to figure out how they can allow Nando back in without the risk of sharing team secrets. A couple rule changes, some NDA's and contracts later, it's settled and F1 gets its most popular Spaniard (sorry Carlos) back on track. Everyone celebrates!

Turns out Nando is on a revenge mission this time. All that pent up McLaren resentment is poured right into Alpine and he becomes the villain of F1, which the fans kinda like. Outside the track, he and Lance live their best comfy life, getting a couple houses together, traveling and expanding their family with a doggy, Nyla! 🥰

2022 Alpine is in shambles. Estie Bestie is threatening to strangle his best friend's boyfriend on a daily basis. Lance suggests, just as a joke, that Fernando should come to Aston as he knew Sebastian was about to retire and they hadn't found a replacement for next season. Fernando doesn't take it as a joke. So, Nando calls up Lance's dad and he agrees immediately to take the Spaniard in.

Fast forward to the end of the season, Alpine gets a couple more big L's, and finally Nando can leave that sinking ship to walk right into Aston Martin's motorhome as soon as he drops out the last race. Fans rejoice, as Strollonso is now in the same team, media is fired up from the potential content and FIA can have a breather now that company secrets are no longer at risk.

2023 Working in the same team turns out to be the best choice they ever made. The team spirit is at an all time high, everyone is enjoying working together and the fans absolutely love them. Nando's tiktok influencer career also helps tremendously and people follow their social medias like it's Friends in 1996.

Nando decides before the summer break that it's now or never and proposes to Lance. To his absolute horror and shock, the 25 year old says "yeah, sure" and they get engaged. Everyone expects a big and glamorous wedding, but turns out they have a small civil ceremony during the break with just family and close friends, away from the limelight. It's a cute and intimate wedding party in Tuscany that only gets out as Lance posts a few pictures from it. Fans rejoice once again! Future's looking all bright and rosy for them <3 And speaking of rosy... They got another fur child! Rósa was Lance's 25th birthday present 🥰

2024.... We'll see ✨

#ask #strollonso #pookie au #this is way too long I'm sorry #😭

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hawkinsbnbg · 7 months

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‪Steve was such an embodiment of a golden retriever that Eddie could hardly hate him even when his Munson Doctrine said otherwise.‬

‪Once Eddie got to know him better, he knew he was done for.‬

‪The guy wasn't only a pretty face and fine muscles, he was also kind and a goddamn sweetheart.‬

‪And Eddie? He was a sucker for Steve Harrington. ‬

‪Had been since high school and never thought he could fall any deeper until Dustin literally force introduced him to Steve who took one look at him and invited him to his house.‬

‪As if they were good friends and not two strangers who had just talked to each other for the first time.‬

‪"We actually talked once before all of this," said Steve absentmindedly as they were chilling out on the lounge chairs by the pool.

‪Sometimes, the night breeze would sail past them and Eddie would be able to smell Steve's citrus cologne mix with the chlorine that came from the pool. ‬

‪Also, he'd never admit that the sight of Steve in that white snug T and those stupid tiny green shorts made him a little bit dizzy.‬

‪"When?" Eddie was bewildered. Because if he had interacted with Steve, then he sure as hell he'd remember it for the rest of his life.‬

‪"On my first year," Steve gave him a meaningful look. "You seemed to hate me a lot the moment we met so I didn't try to approach you anymore."

‪Eddie remembered it now. That day, Steve had come to buy from him but since he didn't sell to underages, he decided to scare the younger boy away and then forgot all about it once he returned to his trailer.

‪Turned out, his tactic worked a little bit too well and now, Eddie finally understood why Steve never came to him and it was always Tommy or Carol's brother instead.‬

‪"Thanks for that anyway," said Steve quietly.‬

‪"For what?" Eddie frowned slightly in confusion.‬

‪"For denying me the weeds," Steve gave him a warm smile. "I had been goaded to buy them from you but now thinking back, I'm glad that I didn't get them. Because I knew the moment I went back with a bag of weeds, those people would encourage me to buy drugs next. It'd go on until they got me addicted and my life would be much more different if I was sent into rehab by my father."‬

‪Though Eddie knew this was what he hoped his little conscience would do to those teenagers, he still didn't expect Steve Harrington of all people to thank him for it.‬

‪And he didn't expect his heart to leap into Steve's hand without his consent, either.‬

‪"It's nothing," Eddie cleared his throat slightly and picked up his beer bottle so he'd have something to do instead of flailing his hands around like an idiot. "It's just one of my rules that I don't sell to underages."‬

‪"And thanks to you, many guys like me can have a better life," Steve raised his beer into the air. "Cheers for Eddie Munson."‬

‪Eddie though blushed at the lovely smile Steve sent him, still held up his bottle and clinked it with Steve's.‬

‪After that night, they started hanging out together more often. Sometimes, it'd be at Steve's place, and some other times, it'd be in Eddie's bedroom at the Munson trailer.

‪Steve even chatted with Wayne about basketball, on which Eddie would never in his wildest dream expect to walk in when he returned from a gig one late night.‬

‪Gradually, it became their thing to spend time together whenever they could.‬

‪Yet, Eddie didn't dare to consider them as anything but friends.‬

‪Sure, they hung out all the time in each other's bedroom, they shared forehead kisses and cuddles, they brushed each other's hair, and they even lived in each other's wardrobe.‬

‪But, clearly, Steve was as straight as a ruler and Eddie wouldn't ruin their friendship just because of his stupid feelings.‬

‪So Eddie did what he thought was the best. He tried to move on.‬

‪But he had failed the moment a random girl walked up to Steve and started flirting with him.‬

‪An ugly thing reared its head inside Eddie and caused him to see Red.‬

‪He just stormed over and pulled Steve away from that girl, out of the bar, and into the back of his van without much thought for the consequences.‬

‪Fuck the consequences. Because Steve was his and his alone. Anyone could fuck off.‬

‪"Eds? Did something happen? Are you okay?" Steve looked at him in concern.‬

‪That got an amused huff out of Eddie. Of course, his sweetheart would worry about everyone but himself.‬

‪"No, I'm okay," he took in a deep breath to calm down. Then, he met those hazel eyes and decided to be honest for once. "I was just jealous."‬

‪"Of who?" Steve’s brows pinched in bafflement.‬

‪"Of that girl," Eddie licked his dry lips and watched Steve's gaze flick down to them before meeting his eyes again.‬

‪"Why?"‬

‪"Why?" Eddie parroted back before giving out the answer that had been locked inside him for years. "Because I like you, Steve."‬

‪"Oh," Steve breathed out.‬

‪"Yeah," Eddie snorted bitterly and braced himself for the imminent heartbreak. ‬

‪He waited for Steve to either turn him down gently or punch him in the face for taking advantage of their friendship for his greed and selfishness.‬

‪He knew Steve would never do that. But it'd hurt far worse if Steve got upset enough with him to resort to pure violence.‬

‪Instead, all Steve did was ask with a raised eyebrow, "So are you gonna kiss me now or do I need to do it first?"‬

‪Eddie didn't need to be told twice to cup Steve's face and lock their lips together.‬

‪This could be another good dream for all he cared.‬

‪For now, Eddie didn't want to drown himself in yet another existential crisis until he was done making out with his darling.‬

‪Until they stumbled into Steve's bed, until Eddie was permitted to do everything to the other man, including blowing his back out that he knew it wasn't a dream. Because Eddie never made it this far in his dreams before.‬

‪"So are we boyfriends now?" Eddie asked again just to make sure as he cuddled and shared lazy kisses with an adorably sleepy Steve.‬

‪"Mhm," Steve hummed under his breath, all rosy cheeks and blissed out.‬

‪"Just so you know," Eddie traced his forefinger on the soft outline of Steve's chin. "You're gonna be stuck with me for a very long time and even if you try to kick me away, I'd find a way to get back to you."‬

‪"That sounds perfect to me," Steve yawned and snuggled up to him.‬

‪"Yeah?" Eddie tightened his arms around Steve.‬

‪"Uh-huh," Steve planted a small kiss on his jaw. "We're in this together now. And you're gonna see how clingy I am very soon. Just don't regret it, Munson."‬

‪"I'd never, sweetheart," Eddie whispered back and gave his lovely boyfriend another smooch on his forehead.‬

‪As Eddie slowly drifted off, he just knew he was the world's happiest and luckiest man to have Steve in his life.

‪And that was a blessing he'd never take for granted.‬

#steddie #idiots in love #possessive eddie munson #steve harrington is a sweetheart #steddie fluff #ficlet #sionewrites

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naomihatake · 6 months

Text

In search of freedom (Ch. 7)

7. What do you wish for?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7 ; Chapter 8

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence, tiny bit comfort at the end

Word count: 8,4 k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm glad I could finish the chapter so early and there are some scenes in here that I really loved writing. Also, I want you to pay close attention to the fight Witch has with the fishman. The anime watchers and manga readers that got far enough with One Piece will probably get it faster ;)

I'd be happy to hear your opinions on this chapter. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

"What is your dream?"

While she would've rather expected that question to come from Luffy, the tipsy Zoro by her side, leaned against the mast, seemed to be rather intrigued by her reasons to remain with Luffy.

When she turned her head towards him, one of her suppositions was proved to be right: the stars above shone beautifully, but nothing could compare to the swordsman's brown eyes. In the dark, his dark chocolate irises were swallowed by pupils dark as the depths of the oceans. No. Dark and beautiful as the night sky she teared her gaze away from.

Her silence could've been interpreted in many ways and Zoro might become suspicious, but his already flushed state seemed to swallow everything in. He only looked back at her.

The witch couldn't exactly spot the specific aura of his gaze. He wasn't only flushed because of the alcohol, no. He seemed… soft, even. His shoulders were relaxed and the grip on the empty bottle loosened up.

His question was simply something she didn't expect, as he was always down to earth, similarly to Nami. However, there was a tiny difference — he proudly admitted he wanted to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

"I—," the word left her lips like a mere whisper.

Her determination faltered under the weight of the alcohol. Until that moment, after sharing some ugly parts of her past, his remarks made her laugh and chuckle happily.

"I want to be free."

One simple wish that could have so many connotations.

"I don't see any rope around your wrists."

His voice was like a low rumble coming from the depths of his chest, such a pleasant and soothing sound.

Their eye contact didn't break. Their gazes were locked together and she couldn't bring herself to be mad about it, especially when she was drunk enough to let vulnerable sides of her poor soul see the light of the stars.

Faint, shy, but it was there.

"I want to be free from myself and the expectations everyone has of me," she clarified. "Free from the rules of the world, written or unwritten. Free from the Marines that are now on my tail."

"Why did you become a pirate if you wanted to be free from the Navy?"

"The sea always looked like a place where I could be free," she admitted with a weak voice. The same tiny voice her younger self used to have when dreaming of a future.

Zoro knitted his eyebrows together and blinked, staring at the small beauty mark on her face he just noticed. He seemed deep in thought or rather trying to figure out the meaning of her words.

He was rarely so concentrated outside of critical situations like fights.

"Are you free now, then?"

With a gulp, she shook her head.

"No."

One word. One heavy weight on her soul.

"How do you wanna be free?" came another question from the swordsman.

"I have no clue."

The cage around her was a metaphor. She always felt like iron bars squeezed her tighter and tighter, until she broke down, a situation that occurred only a few times a year and was always hidden from prying eyes.

Realistically, there was no free place in that world. The Marine wasn't by any means as righteous as they wanted to look like and they were certainly not saviors. Of course, there were plenty of pirates that did nothing else but harm everyone and everything they laid eyes on. Some of them had ugly souls, dark and dirtied by greed.

However, there were plenty of people that were so-called pirates and yet never harmed unless they had to protect someone. Like Luffy or Usopp. They never took anyone's life.

Like her father.

She wasn't one of those pirates. The witch has killed people, even if never solely for blood thirst. Or, at least, not yet. She deserved to die, to never see the light of a new day.

A personal justice system — that's what she's always had, that's what she grew to learn about from the crew she left barely a year ago.

Deep down, she knew she would never be free. There was no liberty for a monster.

When she looked at Zoro, she also wanted him to taste freedom on his tongue. Maybe he already knew what that felt like.

If she couldn't find her own freedom, she could settle for protecting her friends' freedom. That would be more than enough, right?

"Aren't you at fault for your own lack of freedom?" Zoro pulled her out of her thoughts.

His question might've sounded as insensitive and accusing, but she was aware the swordsman didn't mean it that way. He always had his own way with words and, unfortunately, he got misinterpreted most of the time.

He was simply stating a probable truth.

Then I suppose I should get rid of my—

No. There was no time to think of such things, even if she was drunk and vulnerable. Admitting that to his face would be shameful of her.

Maybe she wasn't that ready to share secrets yet, was she?

"I most probably am," the witch whispered as she averted her eyes back to the sky splattered with stars. "At the end of the day, I'm the only one taking into account what others say and how they affect me."

She didn't know exactly how to pursue freedom, but she was certain of something else: if that beautiful future stood in front of her, Zoro was probably one of the ways to find out.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch wasn't able to find freedom if she died at that moment, with the blue hand of a fishman gripping at her throat. There was a lingering ache at the crown of her head from when he pushed her against the wall.

Her eyes squeezed shut while life seemed to slip from her hold, the same way her fingers lost their force while clutching onto the fishman's forearm. She had to find a way to get out of there, to breathe, because her lungs were already begging for some oxygen. Her vision was getting blurry and the pain in her entire throat spread like fire through her body.

Maybe it was because of her hyper-aware state, but she could swear the wound on her bicep was bloody again considering the sharp pain shooting through her arm.

No. There was no time to die and beg for forgiveness — and whose forgiveness could she ask for if she stays alive? Exactly. No one's.

The witch didn't know if she breathed in air or it just felt awfully familiar to that sensation, but her lungs suddenly swallowed something fresh and powerful. It ate the pain hungrily, destroying every doubt in her mind the more she thought of her promises, of the corpse of a father who still whispered in her dreams "go find your freedom".

The grip on the fishman's arm grew tighter, stronger, until her nails dug into the scales and penetrated them. Her fingers ached, the skin around her nails scratched harshly by the sharp broken scales. Fresh blood surfaced.

Her eyes opened up slowly, burning with each one of her promises, this time including her own — If I can't find freedom, I'll make it.

Every nerve in her body burnt and she tasted drugs on the tip of her tongue, an addiction threatening to clutch onto her and take control.

Power.

The witch has never been one to love power, to ache for it and yet, there she was, with a devil-like grin growing on her face.

Power.

It ate her alive and she loved that sensation. The steadiness of her heartbeats, the cage of ribs that broke to make place for that overwhelming feeling.

Power will never take control of me.

Her eyes bore holes through the fishman's entire being. There was no need for her revolver when two shining irises had the same effect.

Her vision and mind has never been clearer.

The fishman was struck. A weight settled on his shoulders, pulling him down, doubts flickering in his head.

Claws sank into his eyes, into his face and throat, clutching at his heart, threatening to pull it out of his chest.

The fishman stumbled and dropped her.

His strong grip on her throat left blooming red marks. They were ugly and her neck felt tender, but her nerves didn't register the pain properly because of the adrenaline running through her veins.

The witch immediately took the opportunity, despite the lack of air in her lungs. She crouched down to take her gun, but before she could shoot again, a loud sound got her attention.

The door of the restaurant broke at the floor underneath her when Luffy got thrown right into it by Arlong.

On the side of the stairs where Usopp crawled down was Sanji struggling to get back up after he cracked his back at the harsh contact with a table.

People were hiding under chairs and bars from the fishmen's wrath.

Her anger was fueled by each single detail. One of her shoulders felt light, while the other was heavy. The monster lurking inside her had one eye open — the same one that pushed her to cuss out Mihawk back when Zoro got a cut through his chest. The same monster she wouldn't trade anything for, because wrath has always been her forte.

The small flame of revenge started burning in the pits of her stomach. Steadily. Still vague, easy to control.

She ran down the stairs and passed by Usopp, who was at that moment helping Sanji get on his feet. The witch got out of Baratie, suddenly stopping in her tracks when she saw Arlong standing a few meters in front of her.

That fucker—

Luffy shouted something along the lines of Gum Gum and she knew that was his fight to deal with.

However, it was a fight she didn't know if he would win at that time, considering the way Arlong only turned his head to the side when he got punched in the face by Luffy's fists. The fishman spat blood on the wooden floor while he stepped closer and closer to the Straw Hat.

In a fraction, the punch Luffy received sent him flying in the sails of a boat and he fell down with a thud, grunting. It was stupid of him to provoke Arlong further, but Luffy has never been to give up or let his enemies feel the satisfaction of a victory without a proper fight.

The witch wondered if her captain didn't break a rib or two after being punched and thrown around for so long. He still had the energy to throw his fists into Arlong's face with all he's got, using his rubber arms to attack from meters away.

His Devil Fruit powers were definitely the only reason why he was alive.

But not for much longer.

Arlong muttered something with a growl and once he sank his hand in the water, the witch knew it wasn't going to end well.

The fishman didn't just splash Luffy; no, he soaked the Straw Hat to the bone and the hit with both sea water and brute force got Luffy to the ground. It was his biggest weakness.

The witch's eyes widened when she saw Arlong grabbing at Luffy's shirt and lifting him in the air, opening his mouth to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

Her feet carried her for only a second and she almost shouted out for Luffy out of despair — she would rather be stabbed in the stomach countless times than feel helpless again. Out of instinct, the hand holding the gun raised, aiming at—

"Arlong, wait!"

Nami.

The witch snapped her head towards her friend.

The orange-haired woman stomped her feet and came, leaving the Going Merry behind her. The tank-top she wore exposed a strange old tattoo on her left shoulder. She was clutching tightly onto a thin and long cylinder.

"I have it," she addressed Arlong. "I have the map."

The map.

"I got it for you, just like I said I would."

The witch blinked away the confusion that almost made her hazy and stepped in front of Nami, stopping her from moving forward.

"Nami," the witch knitted her eyebrows together. "What's going on?"

Nami's eyes held no clear emotion besides a flicker of anger.

"Exactly what you knew all along."

It was one of those times when the witch wished her tarot was wrong.

She shook her head, one of her hands gripping at Nami's wrist.

"Nami," the witch squeezed her friend's hand tighter, scared it would slip from between her fingers.

"Let go."

Nami snatched her arm out of the witch's hold and her jaw ticked. She wasn't only annoyed, there had to be more in her eyes.

"You cannot possibly tell me you want to do this," the witch insisted, stepping even closer, until she was one breath away from the navigator.

Their intense gazes clashed together and none of them let the walls fall.

"But here I am, ain't I?" Nami cocked an eyebrow.

When the orange-haired passed by, her shoulder collided harshly with the witch's who was still stuck in place.

No fucking way.

The witch needed time to think, she had to search for some clarification with her tarot cards. She needed more time to read the energy, to figure out the situation, to understand what, where, why and when. Nothing made sense and time passed by so fast she couldn't even process it all.

Luffy was so disoriented he didn't even pour enough force in his hands to get rid of Arlong's grip on the collar of his shirt.

"Nami?" he firmly spoke. "What are you doing?"

"I tried to tell you, Luffy," Nami continued walking towards him. "I was never on Your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

"I don't believe that," Luffy denied.

"That's because you only believe what you want to believe. Doesn't make it true."

Nami, for fuck's sake, we both know you're lying—

The witch opened her mouth, ready to argue, to yell from the top of her lungs, but with one glance thrown to Arlong, she stopped. Saying the wrong thing might get Nami in great danger and she might lose credibility in front of him.

"Sister Nami's a loyal member of the Arlong Pirates," Arlong started speaking, pointing with his chin towards the one in question. "She has been for years."

The witch didn't know why she still protected Nami, but she was certainly not going to give up on her friend at that time.

Nami shoved the map in Arlong's nose to get his attention to her — or maybe the witch has gotten to another level of delusion.

"Why waste your time killing a Devil Fruit eater?" Nami reminded the fishman as if it wasn't a death sentence. "Let the sea do it for you."

"Nami, this is too far, cut the crap—" the witch revolted immediately.

Before she could make any step towards Luffy, she was grabbed by the back of her neck and launched into the wall of Baratie with sheer force — it was one of Arlong's asshole crewmates. She groaned in pain and squeezed her eyes. The shoulder she fell on sent sharp spikes through the entire left side of her body.

She cussed out, struggling to get back to her feet when Arlong let Luffy drown in the sea. The witch let out a shout of the Straw Hat's name and one of her knees betrayed her, resulting in another unceremonious fall to the ground.

Lucky for her, an arm curled around her front to help her up, a silver ring resting on the finger of the man.

"Luffy fell in the water, go now!" she didn't even wait to be properly raised to her feet to urge Sanji to jump.

Her aching body and the lack of strength wouldn't help her get Luffy out of the sea. She didn't even clearly notice when the cook left her side and jumped into the sea, too caught up in the agitation inside of her. Events passed by her faster than light. All she saw was a discarded shirt.

She wasn't sure because of what powers she managed to walk on the deck, at the edge where the other two should appear from under the water. Her head turned when she recognized Usopp from her peripherals.

"Luffy?" he asked, panic building up as his hands shook.

The witch would have responded if not for the answer to appear right under their noses. Sanji held Luffy tightly by the collar and pushed him on the dock with Usopp's help who dragged him.

The witch extended her hand to bring Sanji on the dock with them and since then, things turned blurry despite her open eyes.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Now the only woman in the crew, the witch sat on the floor in the room that used to be Nami's, her back leaning back against the wooden wall. With eyes devoid of life, she stared up at the ceiling while pulling her knees closer to her chest, once again trying to hide herself from everyone. From everything.

On Nami's bed there was still an inert swordsman and he didn't even flinch when she tentatively said his name after entering the room.

"Fucking dammit," she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nami left. Zoro was unconscious. Luffy almost drowned if not for Sanji. Usopp was bluffing about how "everything has to be alright".

She didn't know if he was trying to convince himself or her.

Because everything was wrong. It felt wrong.

The witch took in a deep breath, but only half of the oxygen she inhaled got to her lungs and brain because of her constricted throat. Tears were sitting on her waterline for the fourth time that day.

Too much happened since the crack of dawn and it wasn't even sunset.

Exhaustion made her look years older than she was. Her head fell forward, forehead hitting her knees before the light sneaking through the windows could fall on her face.

Tears filled with anguish ran down her cheeks and it was the first time she allowed herself to let at least an ounce of the weight on top of her body dissipate. The droplets of pain melted down her cheeks and sank into the material of her shirt.

The witch sneaked her arms around the back of her thighs and squeezed herself tighter in a ball, lips trembling. Her breathing was ragged not only because of the lump in her throat, but also because of the firm grip that fishman had on her neck. The skin was sensitive to the touch and it hurt to swallow.

Every event of that day got added one on top of another. Her fight with Zoro, the fact that he was unconscious after that dwell, Nami leaving just like the witch expected to.

Betrayal. Maybe I was a fool for trusting her.

Or am I?

Teeth sank so deeply into her lower lip it drew blood and she tasted copper on the tip of her tongue.

Pain. That was right.

The only right thing happening that day was the physical pain. Palpable, real, bringing her back to earth.

Except that time it failed, because the tears didn't stop. She squeezed her eyes shut as sharp pain traveled through her body, from her chest into her limbs, puncturing each nerve, shaking her to the core.

Her soul screamed, caged by sorrow, an ugly animal that sank its fangs into her flesh and ripped from the inside. Blood was pouring from her heart, soaking organs and bones, melting into the skin like acid. It burnt so fastly, yet it never seemed to end. With a throbbing head, she couldn't hold the pain back anymore.

However, no sound ever left her lips parted in a silent scream. No whimper, no sob, no cry for help. The room was filled with silence as a heartbeat drummed in her ears in an agonizing rhythm.

I shouldn't have come on this ship in the first place. Only if I had been wise enough to leave when I got the chance. Syrup Village was a perfect option, I could've gone on another ship and continued my mindless traveling. Why did I bother myself with this? Why did I suddenly decide it was a great idea to be part of another crew when this only has brought me suffering?

With each second, she willingly aimed the gun at herself and every word was like a bullet.

I should've left. I would've been happier. I should've left it all behind when I realized this won't go well. Fuck the premonitions, fuck the destiny, damned be the world.

A body stripped of clothes and skin, only burnt flesh left behind the monster's bites. Broken ribs and a shattered heart pumping a meaningless life.

As seconds passed by one after another and her tears came to an end, the gentle swinging of the ship pulled her into a half-asleep state.

She noticed when Luffy came into the room and she was aware of his position on Zoro's bed — the cracking of the wood gave him away. As the Straw Hat talked, she only heard the swordsman's name being spoken, some words here and there, but most of his monologue was muffled.

He probably thought she was asleep because of her slow and steady breathing.

Exhaustion was clawing at her muscles and brain, but something kept her aware of the surroundings for a few more minutes.

Everything turned pitch black in her perspective. A husky and deep voice made her believe she was dreaming, the tips of her mouth curling shily upwards.

Only if it would've been reality.

"Zoro!"

Her entire body flinched and she raised her head, wide eyed. If she didn't know any better, she would've said her soul jumped out of her.

"Luffy?" she whispered, confused on why he yelled the swordsman's name—

"You're not dead!" Luffy shouted again, loud enough for everyone in Baratie to hear.

He's alive? the witch thought to herself. I really heard his voice.

Luffy crawled on top of Zoro and squeezed the life out of him. Literally.

"Now I wish I was," she heard Zoro mumble between grunts.

He was alive.

The witch's lungs filled with fresh air for the first time that day. Relief washed over her and her body relaxed, shoulders deflating as some of the weight sitting on them fell into the sea below.

While leaning her body against the wall, she managed to get up just to get a better view of the swordsman who was squinting his eyes at the ceiling. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, head falling forward.

At least one thing went right, didn't it?

After Luffy got up from above Zoro, the swordsman managed to take some deep gulps of air, chest raising up and falling rhythmically.

"I had the strangest dream that Nami left," he said with a frown on his face as he closed his eyes.

"She did," the witch responded faintly.

There wasn't enough courage in her to look at him as she said that, instead choosing to glance at the window.

Zoro looked again at the ceiling and realized her voice was too faint for all of that to be a mere joke, a prank thrown at him for staying unconscious for… for how long?

"It's my fault," Luffy said with his chin lowered.

From the corner of his eye, Zoro saw the witch place a hand on their captain's shoulder.

"We'll find a way."

There was a promise etched onto her fragile smile. As if a simple brush of air or one wrong world could make her crumble.

But she didn't. Instead, she threw a knowing look to Zoro and silently told him to talk with Luffy. She knew the Straw Hat needed his first mate's support at that moment.

What confused Zoro the most was watching the witch get out of the room without too much of a word. Her hair bounced as she stepped further away from him and their friends. Even as his ribs and body hurt at every inhale, he wanted to understand the real reason for her leaving.

Last time they talked, she expressed worry. What happened in the meantime? What the fuck went wrong?

There was a fat chance she was still mad at him for whatever reason. Sure, she was calm, collected, but he could swear he's seen fire burning in her eyes more than just once and a grin splayed on her face at the thrill and adrenaline of a fight. She snapped at him when they fought and he had to admit it would've been sadder if she treated him with silence.

However, he didn't know if that was silence or something more.

Weird, he concluded.

His attention went back to Luffy. The swordsman couldn't manage watching the ever happy-go-lucky captain speak like a ghost.

"You didn't do anything wrong." He seriously hoped he could find the right words to bring Luffy back to reality.

There's no way that crew would fall apart without a proper fight. What has been was just the beginning.

"You acted like a captain."

"But the crew is falling apart," Luffy pulled his lips in a tight line.

"No, it's not," the green-haired firmly affirmed.

Maybe a lot more than Zoro thought has happened, but that was definitely not the end.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Before the sun could set and hide in the sea, they gathered some supplies for their new journey. They found out from the clown head — who they found out told Arlong where to find the Straw Hats — that Nami was most probably heading to Conomi Islands, specifically Cocoyashi Village. Sanji joined their crew, which made Luffy jump in excitement for the second time that day.

Luffy's folded arms were resting over the railing of Going Merry while he stared down at the water splashing against the ship.

"Does it always take so long?" Luffy spoke so softly.

Sanji chuckled with the fishing rod in his hand as he waited for a fish to catch the bait.

"We've only been here for two minutes, be patient," the cook reminded him. "Some days, they bite as soon as you drop the line and some days, it takes hours."

Then, he threw a knowing glance towards Luffy with an arch of his eyebrow.

"But we're not talking about fishing, are we?"

"I highly doubt it," the witch mumbled as she curled her fingers around her tarot deck.

She didn't dare to shuffle through the cards again, a side of her afraid of what was waiting for them. It felt uneasy everytime she got the impulse of taking the cards out and finding out which one of them holds the truth.

The witch was leaning with her back against the railing, not so far away from the Straw Hat, pressing her fingertips into the old box made of cardboard that fit perfectly in her hands.

Luffy smiled towards Sanji before he stared into the horizon with hope.

"I just want to know if Nami's okay."

"A beautiful, talented woman does not choose to ally herself with a pirate like Arlong," Sanji said firmly, convinced of his beliefs. "Nami clearly needs to be rescued."

The witch breathed in deeply and widened her eyes, trying to find the right words to tell them what she knew. A pair of heavy steps caught her attention and she immediately recognized the chiming filling the air.

Zoro. His hand was resting on his Wado Ichimoji — his only sword now.

"Her tattoo says different," he said.

The way he looked at the witch was bringing back to life some shattered pieces of her soul. He might look serene when sleeping, but he was better that way — wide awake and an asshole.

Also, he noticed something she couldn't pinpoint. There must've been a scar on her face, most probably. At first, he only stared at her face, just to lower his gaze. Oh. She didn't sleep for two days and got in a fight with a fishman, which left some nasty bruises on her bare neck.

"Well," Sanji argued, "tattoos don't tell the whole story. And like any woman, she's a mystery to be unraveled."

"Am I supposed to feel flattered?" the witch arched her eyebrow at the cook after she turned her head towards him.

Right at that moment, Zoro stepped between her and Luffy, restricting her view. All she could see was his chest, bandaged and with a red patch in the center.

"You should change your bandages," she looked up at him.

However, the witch was hesitant when she did so. As if the man in front of her could vanish in thin air.

Zoro turned to Sanji and decided to completely ignore her comment.

"Nami made her choice."

The cook immediately frowned, creases appearing on his forehead. His scowl was deeper than Zoro's.

"You don't know why," Sanji retorted.

As if getting snapped by Usopp, Zoro scoffed:

"The only thing I want to hear from you are dinner specials. You don't know Nami."

"Sounds like you don't know her either, Mosshead," Sanji spat with a taunting smile on his lips.

"Oh God, stop, you two," the witch sighed heavily, annoyed.

Just to get the swordsman's attention to her, she poked his back with the tip of her finger, digging deep enough to receive a light flinch. It seemed like she took him by surprise. She bent her back more as she continued resting her elbows on the railing to glance at Luffy over Zoro's shoulder.

"I'm sure Nami has her reasons," their captain nodded.

"I know Nami's reason."

All of their heads turned to the witch.

Usopp was just walking up the stairs of the forecastle when his eyes sparkled curiously.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Nami," Zoro said quickly. "Why didn't you say anything until now?" that time, his sharp words were directed to the witch.

The witch shot him a glare, displeased by his reaction. However, she would've acted the same if someone was to hide something so important.

"It would've felt unfair to tell you before talking with her," the witch clarified.

"You talked with her about it?" Usopp suddenly intervened, surprised by the news.

The witch gripped at the tarot deck in between her hands tighter and clicked her tongue, trying to find the best words to explain.

"I did. Somehow," uncertainty latched onto her voice.

None of them rushed her anymore so she took her time.

"Listen, this isn't as easy as it seems to be. Yes, Sanji, she didn't willingly get into Arlong's crew."

A snarky remark sat on the cook's tongue and he wanted to throw it Zoro's way.

"But," the witch continued in order to stop an eventual argument, "she's fully aware of her actions. She was forced by the circumstances to do what she's doing, but it doesn't mean she likes acting like Arlong's crewmate. Nami certainly hates him from the bottom of her heart. He did something. Something that forced her to act like she's a friend just to protect something or someone. Or both. She's not only protecting herself, she's protecting what's most dear to her heart."

It wasn't the witch that spoke, but the gut feeling she had. Her thoughts didn't seem so clear in months, since her last successful tarot reading. Now, as the significance of each card sank into her brain, she knew what everything meant.

It wasn't her that spoke, but her intuition.

"She's keeping us away because she's scared we'd get hurt, not only because we would get in her way. Nami cares about us and that's exactly why she's pushing us away."

"Who does that?" Zoro wondered out loud.

Maybe he should've kept that to himself.

"You do that," the witch's head snapped towards him. "I do it. And Nami does. She said she tricked us — which was true. At the same time, she's tricking Arlong. He isn't her crewmate, he's an asshole that stole something from her—"

The witch got so carried away she didn't even realize what she just said. She suddenly furrowed her eyebrows into the void and received confused looks from her friends.

"He stole something. Her freedom."

Those words were said as she actively figured the details out, staring into the void.

"Witch?" Usopp nudged her.

"Yes?" she turned towards him.

"Did she tell you all these things?"

There was a light chuckle that left her lips at that question.

"The cards did. Her reactions just gave her away and answered my doubts."

The witch knew what games she was playing. She's been doing these things for years and not only — she trusted her gut feeling above everything else.

She received an especially confused look from the cook, who had no clue why she was called a witch. He probably supposed it was because she was beautiful or maybe secretive.

He should've taken that nickname literally.

"What do we do then?" Zoro turned his head towards their captain.

Luffy listened intently to everything the witch had to say and he made up his mind since long ago:

"I want to hear her decision for myself."

"That's for the best," the witch nodded.

There was more she would've liked to say, but speaking from the gut was both easier than usual and harder when tired. Considering the last time she got some proper sleep was before they got attacked by the Marines, she could say it's been long enough for her mind to get clouded.

Stuck in her thoughts as she was, the grip on her tarot deck loosened up and the object fell from her hold on the wooden floor. The witch's exhausted brain registered that too many seconds later.

A deep frown appeared between her eyebrows, blinking in an attempt to clear her vision while she bent down to take the deck in her hand.

Obviously, she failed.

When her back was straight again, her vision went pitch black and a heavy throbbing settled in her temples. The ship swayed worse than a second ago. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed.

The witch has been in that situation before. She stood still, because attempting to walk would've ended in a passionate kiss with the floor.

When the sensations dissipated little by little, tiredness was everything left behind.

"I'm gonna get some rest," she mumbled, the words a little slurred.

With her eyes now opened wide enough to see where she's heading, she walked towards the stairs and cussed them out one by one.

Falling like an idiot wasn't on her to-do list for that day.

By some miracle, she managed to walk all the way into the galley. The room she shared with Nami was hers, but it was too far away. Her feet barely carried her to the dark red sofa she let her body fall on like a sack.

She didn't care about the clothes she hasn't changed from, too caught up with everything that has happened. There was enough time for a shower later, when exhaustion wasn't seeping into her bones. The only thing she had the decency to do was to take her boots off.

She stretched her legs and put an arm under her head, resting on her side to face the room. Not the most comfortable place to sleep in, but after all of that tumult, nothing mattered anymore.

The sweet sound of jingling disturbed her again.

Oh, god dammit.

She was one breath away from cussing Zoro's ass and his earrings — despite being in ecstasy that he woke up. The witch, as if expecting his next move, bent her knees to make space for him. The swordsman plopped himself down with a grunt at the other side of the sofa and her bare feet touched his thigh.

She didn't dare mutter a word about his presence. Zoro could stay. Gosh, as she was thinkingln about it, she could only believe it was a blessing he wasn't only awake, but also throwing remarks her way.

It was so much better than telling stories of her past to an unconscious Mosshead.

Right.

The edges of her mouth curled in a smile.

"What?"

"Mosshead," she chuckled, eyes still closed.

Zoro let out a scoff and she could imagine him rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Didn't you say you were going to rest?"

His voice was unusually low and even soft, pulling her towards the dreamland.

"I'd say this place is perfect," she mumbled.

The witch didn't bother to explain she was tired out of her mind or that her feet would most likely betray her if she dared to get up.

The silence was filled with their breathing and the sounds of the water splashing against their ship, the cracks of the wood. She remembered the times when she traveled with her father's crew and she would many times fall asleep curled next to a barrel while the vice-captain was still singing sea shanties in the middle of the night.

"Zoro," the witch whispered.

She was too weary to care about what left her mouth. It acted like alcohol — it clouded her mind and she felt shameless.

"What if I wouldn't have stepped on this ship?"

That question plagued her mind and she finally said it out loud.

"So the last ship was more to your taste?" he snickered. "It almost sank in the sea."

"You're such an ass," and while that phrase might've sounded harsh in the past, at that moment it was filled with fondness.

"Been told that before."

I really missed that voice.

"For someone with a big ass bruise on your neck, you sound more like a coward than I thought."

Maybe she deserved that serious tone thrown her way. Was he right? Only halfway through.

"No," she was stubborn enough to fight the sleep for a few more minutes. "What if I would've been happier? Y'know, less worries, no people to haunt my ass. No anxiety."

No crying over you for being almost dead.

The continuation sat on the tip of her tongue and got swallowed back with a gulp. Was there really a need for an admission? Puffy eyelids and dark circles under her eyes, chapped lips and bandages around her forearm soaked in blood. Those details were enough proof.

"Do you hate us that much?" his low voice sent shivers down her spine.

"It's not about that. Just…" she gulped and curled her fingers around the tarot deck she was still holding onto. "I want some peace."

"I say you should get some sleep."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Standing on the deck felt right, even if the witch doesn't remember why she was there. She can't point out the weather clearly, it feels blurry. Seconds ago she was in the kitchen talking with Sanji about some unusual topic she couldn't remember.

Then why was she suddenly on the deck, face to face with a kneeling Zoro who had two swords piercing through his upper body from behind? She didn't only know it was him, she felt like it was him, as if the pieces connecting in her head were just right. However, it horrified her. Everything around him was blurry except for him.

Him, whose essence of life was pouring down his body, creating a puddle under him, sinking into the cracks of the wooden floor. The crimson liquid melted into his white t-shirt. Now that she was looking better at it, she noticed the sharp point of a sword penetrating all the way through his stomach to the front side of his body.

He was looking up at her, despite the way his chin was tilted down. Those sharp brown eyes were boring holes through her. His beautiful irises painted with the warm nuances of chocolate and coffee were scary, like no other time.

Was Luffy next to her? It feels like it was him, even if she can only distinguish a silhouette in the corner of her right eye.

Why was Zoro looking at her like that? She couldn't move, as if her feet were stuck in place. She didn't know if she was breathing or if she was alive anymore. She didn't know why she was on the deck, why those swords took his life away. It barely made any sense that he had enough energy to stare at her.

He didn't falter once. He didn't beg for help, her name didn't come out of his mouth, no groans, no nothing.

She couldn't move. As she stood in the same place, her anxiety was rising up, up, up, until she felt like panicking despite the lack of reaction. She felt like exploding, but she couldn't express those horrific feelings.

She couldn't help him. Her arms were stuck by the sides of her body, as if someone had put a spell on her. She had the will to move her legs, to get closer to him, she wanted to, but she remained glued in that spot. She couldn't feel her body.

She had to do something, but she was trapped inside an unmoving object that was her own body. Why?

Everything snapped.

The smallest hope towards an escape woke her up. Her eyes opened instantly and she raised up in a sitting position, eyes frantically searching for more clues, for answers about the horrifying images she just saw before her eyelids.

Her heart was beating so fast it made her wish she didn't have it at all, a deafening ba-dump repeating in her eardrums over and over again.

Unfortunately, she was face to face with the swordsman she dreamt of. Instantly, as if she was shot, she looked at his upper abdomen. For no more than two seconds, she saw a big black patch on his bandages.

She inhaled deeply and her heart was beating faster, suddenly unable to release that breath of air. Her eyes widened and her hands shook, chest tight.

"Hey," she heard more of a background sound.

She blinked countless times, until her tired brain figured out that it was just her imagination. It was so dark in the room and her nightmare was a shock, the reason why at some point the patch started blurring out, inviting her to blink until it turned to be one small spot. It has been there since he woke up from his slumber.

When the realization sank in, she let go of that breath and let out a pitiful whimper. Deep inside, it felt like relief, her eyes now squeezed shut.

This time, he clearly called her name after his fingers securely gripped at her shaking shoulders, avoiding her wound. Her hands were trembling, her entire being disturbed.

Zoro said her name, not the nickname she got so used to hearing on that ship. Not the usual Witch, a word that sounded so endearing coming from her crewmates; no, it was her name and it was spoken so softly she could've confused him for someone else.

She had a poor attempt at recalling those images in order to figure out the reality, but it backfired. The bloody scene stuck before her closed eyes pushed her to open them up again.

Thankfully, his dark gaze was warm, filled with unspoken worry. For a brief moment she wondered how he woke up, since he slept like the dead sometimes.

"I'm surprised I managed to wake you up," her voice trembled.

He didn't joke back at her. Instead, his thumbs started rubbing slow circles into her shoulders in order to bring her back to earth. Or, better said, back to the ship that was peacefully sailing on the sea during the night.

"I think you should correct your breathing," he pointed out.

Once she changed from autopilot breathing, it felt like her throat was tight.

"Breathe in."

Blindly, she trusted his instructions. That mere breath shook her again, feeling shivers when she allowed the oxygen to sink into her lungs, the same way his voice sank into her being, in the cracks of her soul.

It took a few minutes until that normal bodily process didn't seem like an impossible task. Her muscles were tense until Zoro squeezed her shoulders again.

She could distinguish more of his face than just the warmth she noticed not long ago. His expression seemed pained with worry and not from a wound that could kill him, even if there still were bandages wrapped around his torso. Maybe it was also fear that made him look so different from usual; or was it confusion?

"I'm sorry for destroying your sleep."

It was half a lie. She wasn't sorry about the touch keeping her afloat, about how she managed to breathe again only because of his presence, because he was clearly awake and alive. At the same time, she knew he needed to rest so his wound could heal properly.

"Be serious," he huffed in a lower voice, clearly displeased.

"I am. You should sleep."

"Just like you should, but I doubt you will."

"I'd argue about that."

She was still tired, even if her shock from earlier struck her like thunder. Her eyes could close at any moment, which she feared, because another nightmare didn't sound good even for how stress resistant she became.

Since he heard her soft whimper when she was still sleeping, he had no clue what to do, how to act. One thing was clear: it was better to wake her up, despite the possibility she might get defensive and attack.

Alright, now what the heck do I do? He's had nightmares before, he's seen horrendous things during his sleep countless times, but he didn't have any idea about what to do for her. Was he even supposed to do something? She didn't like being pampered — maybe he should act like nothing happened. However, the fear coloring her face earlier shocked him as well. The witch has always been collected, she had such a firm grip on her reactions it was annoying sometimes.

The swordsman shook his head, but didn't let go of her. Instead, he leaned against the cushions on his side, while his hands fell down to her forearms to get a comfortable position of his limbs and upper body. The wound on his chest sent daggers through him at each movement. Barely a day of consciously dealing with it and he's already got annoyed.

The witch looked down at where their bodies were connected. His long calloused fingers were securely wrapped around her arms, close to her wrists. When did her legs end up in his lap she didn't know. Her bare knee tingled with warmth — why?

"You had a weird reaction after you woke up," his whisper stirred something in her heart.

"What do you mean? I had plenty of reactions."

Are you playing the idiot with me? Zoro thought.

"You were more scared of seeing me than of the nightmare."

"Oh."

Why did the Mosshead have to be so observant? It was one of the reasons why she was attracted to him, evidently, but sometimes he exposed her too easily.

She dropped her chin and looked down at her own hands. Admitting that she feared his role as the main character of a tragedy for the second time felt embarrassing for some unknown reason. She's been in enough humiliating situations and he never ridiculed her.

Zoro was utterly stuck. Was he supposed to move away? His body felt too heavy to get off the sofa and go to his room. It wouldn't be alright leaving her alone with her crippling anxiety either, considering she was prone to overthinking.

He wanted to do something, but what?

He let out a long sigh and rested his head against the cushions, his fingers still curled around her wrists. Her pulse was fast, but as seconds passed by, it slowed down under the weight of his thumbs.

The witch became hyper aware of the situation, but it felt too good to move away. Her tired brain entirely registered his presence and her eyes closed. She breathed in the chill air of the night and, while focusing so intently on Zoro's presence, she fell into a deeper state of mind, half asleep.

He was disturbed from his own journey into the dream realm when he felt a light weight on his shoulder. Once his eyes opened, he saw the cause: she leaned in closer to him, clearly unaware.

He smelled like the sea and the familiar scent of soap clung to the unbuttoned blue t-shirt he wore. With her forehead resting against his neck, the witch could vaguely point out his pulse. The safety of his embrace lulled her into a dreamless sleep while she focused on his slow breathing and the secure grip he had on her.

Zoro filled her senses so fiercely it was impossible not to melt into him, inhaling and exhaling in sync with him.

The swordsman had different sentiments about this and they were all confusing.

What am I doing? he scolded himself.

He moved his head and angled his face so he could look at the right side of her sleeping face. With long eyelashes resting over her soft cheeks, she looked like she didn't have a worry in the world, even if he knew better. Her shoulders would rise and fall rhythmically in such a slow pace, making him wonder what exactly exhausted her so much.

Then, his gaze fell on the purple marks on her neck and his jaw clenched. If he would've been awake when Arlong appeared at Baratie, maybe none of them would be like that. Maybe he would've had enough stubbornness to get answers from Nami and maybe Luffy wouldn't have been so close to drowning. Maybe those marks on her neck wouldn't have been there in the first place.

What the fuck am I doing?

Giving up, he rested his head back against the cushions with a scowl. He didn't understand himself and it was even harder to understand the woman sleeping so peacefully, too close to him.

Zoro let out a low displeased sound and closed his eyes, deciding to rest for a while. He didn't dare move away or wake her up either.

First and foremost he was displeased about the fact that he liked the proximity.

I wonder what that fishman's face looks like. It'll surely be a pleasure to slice him in half.

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop @zoromyluv

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

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Alex Keller meeting civilian reader scenario

Masterlist

Ok, so I'm well aware, that Farah exists, and I respect all those, who ship her with Alex. She is the queen, hands down. But I wanted to do a series of “COD men meeting civilian reader”, so sorry guys, this time you, readers, get him. The reader is just a small nervous overthinker here. So that's where all this "veterans" stuff comes from. I usually bear an AFAB reader in mind, but, I think, I've made no specific allusions to the gender of the reader here.

You didn't like this whole idea from the start. From the very moment, when a friend of yours paused from laughing on your joke and turned to her spouse.

"Babe, you know, who has a tad similar sense of humor? Alex does..." - yeah, that "Alex does" didn't sound good to you. This wasn't the first time these two had tried to end your quiet single life by introducing you to someone.

"Alex?" - you tensed up.

"Yeah Alex. He is a friend. A good lad.", they both grinned at you. "Good lad" was a very bad sign. A sign that this "good lad" was only a few minutes apart from getting your number from your friends.

"No. I'm done with this. The last time was... THE LAST EVER!", you really were hoping, you would convince these two to leave your single ass alone in your happy hiatus. The last guy they tried to set you up with turned out to be a disaster!

"I promise, it's not like that this time! He is funny, has a charming personality, absolutely your type, I think you even have the same tastes in music, if I remember correctly" - your friend started rambling.

And just when you were about to interrupt her with a reminder that you are too old to date guys based on the same taste in music, her husband added 4 words that made you stumble.

"He is a veteran."

Now that was a problem...

No, you didn't disrespect or dislike people with such a background. And by no means, you could even think to discriminate them. If anything, they deserved endless respect, gratitude, care and love. But you weren't naive. You understood that the life of such a person could turn into hell if he was not supported by someone incredibly strong. And you did not believe that you would ever become such a strong person. Damn, you had sometimes problems coping even with yourself.

But you also could never say, "I'll never speak to a guy, just because he is a veteran". No way.

So you sighed and thought to yourself, that you'll just meet him once, be nice and friendly, thank him for what he was doing, shake his hand and buy him a beer.

That's why you agreed to this date, albeit with a heavy heart.

So you ended up at the bar waiting for this guy on a chilly autumn evening.

You were still questioning yourself if it was even fair to go on a date that is meant to be the last one (and only one participant knew it for sure), when you heard someone call your name behind your back.

You turned back and froze for a moment.

Why did this guy had to have an absolutely disarming smile and those charming clear blue eyes and barely noticeable precious freckles?

Your brain seemed to short circuit, because all you managed to answer was "Oh..."

"I prefer Alex, but if it's a happy "oh" - I'm ok with that too" - he grinned and gave you a friendly hug.

And at that moment you knew, you were gone.

Well, maybe there was a tiny bit of hope for you... What if the guy was just a jerk? This would make stopping any interaction easier for you. "C'mon, help me out here, man, please!" - you desperately thought as the date began.

He didn't help you. Not at all.

As promised: he was funny, charming, wildly beautiful and... warm. Not "formally friendly", but really, sincerely warm.

In an hour, you didn't even feel like it was a date. You were just chatting with your old buddy.

And yes, he got all your jokes. The way he laughed, closing his eyes sometimes, just made you weak.

You even forgot to worry about all that "Oh no, how do I pay respect and show gratitude to the veteran" stuff. He made you feel comfortable and relaxed.

Well, at least until he caught you staring at his tattoos, when you thought, he looked in the other direction.

"Wanna see the rest?" - he smiled and rolled the sleeve of his shirt up.

You were a blushing, apologetic mess, till he turned it all up into a joke.

"C'mon, it's not every day, that I catch the attention of someone so adorable. Just pretend, you are interested and ill be reminiscing on how I showed you my ink for the rest of my life and boost my self-esteem" - he chuckled.

Oh, his sweet, a bit raspy little laughs.

He looked you right in the eyes, but somehow didn't make eye contact uncomfortable.

You didn't even notice how time passed until it was time to say goodbye.

"Did your friend already give you my number? No? Ok, time to fix this!" - he takes your phone from your hands and writes something down there. Then he laughs softly and makes a funny face at the camera.

When he returns the phone to you, his number is written there and there is even a funny photo on his contact.

"Alex "Oh" Keller".

Well, of course, he wrote his name down that way.

"Our mutual friend said that you somehow take the military too seriously. Here's a reminder for you that we are just goofballs in a uniform sometimes."

When you came back home, you opened a chat with your friend. Of course, she already spammed you with a ton of questions on how did you like Alex.

"What did you tell him about me?!" "I mean... thanks" "Hes perfect", you type, but then delete and type instead "Really, thnx!"

#alex keller #alex keller scenarios #alex keller cod #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #Keller cod #alex keller headcanons #cod x reader #cod scenario #cod headcanons #cod x you

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mlm-ficcollection · 2 months

Text

Jasper Hale X Male! Reader (part. 2)

(I'm only a little bit ashamed that I forgot to post the second chapter on here. Anyways, enjoy!)

(Part. 1)

----------------------------------------------------

The newborn lay in bed, glaring up at the unassuming and undeserving roof, and wondering how someone had just managed to come out for him.

After the incident, (y/n) stormed off into his room to cool off a bit (before he murdered Edward. Which he would be justified in doing thank you very much).

Coming out was, or had been, important to him. It was supposed to be a heartfelt moment of acceptance and love, a chance at something he'd never gotten before. And he knew that the others weren't blind to that fact either. He'd seen the look in Carlisle's eyes. The doctor certainly wasn't stupid. He knew he had his suspicions.

But this was not how coming out was supposed to go. He wished he had a rock or something just so he could chuck it at something (someone).

A soft knock came from the door, interrupting his seething. (Y/n) growled in frustration, turning over in the bed and facing away from the door.

"Fuck off Edward! Apology not accepted, go fuck yourself."

A small pause came from the other side of the door, sounding vaguely like someone stifling their laughter.

"... Well, what if it's not Edward?"

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open and he sat up with a start, recognizing the southern drawl on the other side of the door as definitely not Edwards. He slowly laid down again,

"Come in Jasper."

The door opened and closed, and the man approached the bed. (Y/n) did not avert his gaze from the roof. He felt no need to. The sheets of the bed shifted a bit as Jasper laid down next to him, staring at the roof as well.

For some reason, it didn't feel awkward. It just felt... safe, and calm.

"What're we lookin' at?"

Jasper asked, blinking at the empty grey roof. The newborn hadn’t the heart to tell him he was just glaring at the roof and imagining chucking rocks at his brother.

"It's new to me, this whole vampire sight. I can literally see the tiny insects on the roof." (Y/n) answered, not technically lying.

"... I'm not sure I like it. I lived in blissful ignorance of how I was surrounded by bugs before."

Jasper let out a huff of a laugh, and then they fell into a comfortable silence once more. There was tension brewing under the surface though, as if Jasper was waiting to say something that he didn’t quite know how to phrase. That wouldn’t surprise him. The man wasn’t exactly a star at navigating social interactions, mostly opting to stand back and observe.

Brooding, (y/n) had called it once, to which Jasper had responded with the most unamused of looks, making him throw his head back in laughter.

"You know it's okay right? To be gay, I mean."

Jasper stated, breaking the silence, but not the gaze on the roof. The poor roof had been subject to their scrutinising gazes for quite a while now.

(Y/n) didn't know how to respond. He couldn’t exactly argue. He knew it was technically not wrong - but some part of him still believed it was. His whole life he had been told he was wrong, a sin, a disgrace.

"... Is it?"

He mumbled, more so to himself than as an actual question. Life lessons were not always so easily unlearned. Then again, he had been taught vampires weren’t real too, and that had been unlearned pretty quickly.

Jasper frowned. (Y/n) wondered if he had upset him, as the silence between them stretched on.

"... I'm gay too, y'know. Sorta. I don’t really know all the… Words. Labels. Alice, uh, tried explainin’ but it ain’t sticking." He motioned noncommittally with his hand,

“I like women and men.”

Bi, (y/n) thought to himself, while also reeling from the weight of the words Jasper had just spoken. (Made sense though, that he had a hard time with the labels. From what he knew, Jasper was from a time you were either gay or not. Preferably not.)

…

Bi. Jasper was Bi. Jasper liked men and women.

“Wasn’ easy to come to that conclusion. Confederate Texas wasn’t the most open a’ places, believe it or not.” (y/n) snorted. Jasper smirked at the reaction, but continued. “I had to… Unlearn a lot of stuff, I’m sure you can imagine. Alice helped a lot. Anyway, it’s not wrong.”

They fell back into silence again after that. They tended to do that. Neither of them minded it.

(Y/n) couldn’t just… Unlearn everything on the spot.

But with time he’d get there.

“Thank you, Jasper.”

He responded eventually, looking over at the blond. He nodded at him.

“It means a lot.”

And Jasper simply nodded in response, returning the newborn's gaze before averting his eyes, back at the roof.

They both laid there, watching the roof. Or maybe just thinking. It didn’t matter.

Eventually, Jasper stood up to leave, nodding goodbye to the newborn once in the doorway. The newborn held up its hand, tipping a pretend cowboy hat at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. Jasper rolled his eyes. The fond smirk on his face was still there when he closed the door.

…

Jasper was bi. A tingle of hope spread through (y/n)s body, shooting through him like adrenaline.

————

Time passed, and… Nothing happened.

A couple of longing looks, a couple of too many lingering touches at training, but still, nothing. Let it be known that neither of the two men had a reputation for being fantastic at communication. It was likely that neither of the men wanted to assume the other one liked them back for fear of being wrong, of accidentally pushing the other away, of ruining what they had.

It was disgustingly adorable and horrendously frustrating to watch.

“I don’t get it.”

Alice declared, standing by one of their very large windows and peering out. In the woods, Jasper and (y/n) were training once more. Jasper brushed a hand against the newborn's shoulder, and Alice had to turn away from the window to stop herself from throwing a rock at them.

“How can they be this oblivious! I don't understand!”

“They are both afraid of making a mistake,” Edward stated from his place on the couch, distantly gazing into the trees. He seemed to be listening to them, more so than watching them. “Each wallowing in their own personal pit of self-doubt.”

“Yes, but it’s so obvious!”

Alice dramatically gestured with her hands - and it was obvious that this was killing her, not being able to just… Tell them that they were both wrong, that the feelings were requited. To not be able to help them.

“We have to let them take their time.”

Alice spun around, and there was Carlisle, coming down the stairs slowly. His gaze was set on the two men in the woods as well, before he looked over at Alice, his eyes gentle, and kind, and understanding.

“They have to realise it on their own. We can’t force their hands on this.”

He was right, of course. And Alice, if anyone, knew they’d get there eventually.

But holy shit could they take their time.

#jasper hale x male reader #twilight #jasper hale x reader #x male reader #male reader #twilight x reader #gn reader #jasper hale x gn reader #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

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our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home.

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too.

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones.

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate. He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other?

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher.

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung.

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content.

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all.

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop.

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know.

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do.

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces.

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he?

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does.

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do.

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here.

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean.

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do.

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment.

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

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muffinlance · 2 years

Note

Baby Zuko (13 year old) being babysat by the Gaang straight after rescue (kidnapping) off the Wani?

Going with “only Zuko is aged down” and, to avoid just writing Little Zuko v the World again, “instead of Uncle Iroh, he sails out under the auspices of Uncle Zhao <3”

- - -

Fire Nation jail cells were everything Sokka ever imagined, if by ‘imagined’ he meant ‘had nightmares of’. And it was really inappropriate, and not a thought he’d ever share with Katara, but the longer they were down here the more his thoughts kept roaming back around to I’m glad mom was never in one of these.

There was rust, but not in any strategically important, make-it-easier-to-break-out places. Water dripping, but not in his cell where he would have been getting really close to wanting to lick it off a wall. Guards, but at the far end of the cell block, where they refused to interact with his witty banter and/or attempts to lure them into grappling-through-the-bars range. The only one who ever got close enough to grab was the tiny semi-feverish child who, given the huge fresh sorta oozy burn wound over half his face, Sokka was going to go ahead and classify as not the best hostage material.

Unlike the son of Chief Hakoda, his waterbending daughter, and—

“How’s Appa?” Aang, who was another tiny child, who was the Avatar, who was arguably the reason Sokka and his little sister were in this mess but Sokka was still wrapping his head around the Avatar part, said. Said after wooshing towards the bars, and then wooshing again in a way that made him not hit the bars, and then he was holding them and leaning as far as he could through which was almost but not quite enough for him to slip through entirely.

“Fine,” the kid who’d gotten on the bad side of his own country croaked. Sokka did not get the impression he was allowed to talk much, outside of the prisoner block. The kid’s face was twisted into even more of a scowl than just the burned-on one. “He’s too fast for the catapult operators. Zhao said he’s going to keelhaul them if they keep missing, but when I yelled at him about it—”

The kid stopped mid-sentence in that sort of horrifying way he did sometimes. And then he set down his tray and gave them all their slop, which they got once a day, and which contained all the water they were getting, too. Something about Katara’s extremely ineffective waterbending had the big bad Fire Nation spooked.

“Thank you,” his little sister said, her own voice a rasp-croak that pained Sokka a lot more than the random Fire Nation brat’s.

The kid scowled harder, which was his general reaction to any gratitude from them.

“So,” Sokka croaked his own croak. “About helping us with that escape…”

“I’M NOT,” the kid shouted, and then the guards turned to look at them all, and then he hunched in on himself and re-evaluated his volume decisions. “I’m not helping you escape.”

“Why not?” asked Aang, bless him.

“Because,” the kid said, which is usually as much of a reply as they get before he stormed off. But today he added, even if it was really hard to hear: “Because I want to go home.”

“So,” Sokka said, “did you get that on the ship or at home?” And he waved at his own face, like the subtle genius he was.

Ah. There was the storming away.

“You forgot our bowls!” Sokka called after him.

“Keep them,” the kid shouted back, and left Sokka alone with a metal spoon and a Fire Nation lock.

- - -

The lock was a bad idea, actually. It would have taken way too long to file the spoon down against the floor so it would fit, not to mention made way too much noise. Also: Sokka did not actually know how to pick a lock.

The screw slots on the hinges, on the other hand…

- - -

“What?” the kid got out, all sleepy-confused, before Sokka was shoving a literal sock in his mouth and tossing him over a shoulder and running as quickly and quietly as he could with a very angry sack of potatoes bouncing on his back.

“Go go go go,” Sokka said, as he vaulted the rail into the saddle waiting below.

“Yip yip!” said Aang.

The catapult didn’t even come close to hitting them, in the darkness. Sokka kind of really felt bad for the operator team and their future date with the hull, but there was only so much saddle space, and there was an upper age limit on the Fire Nation soldiers he was willing to pardon no-questions-asked.

“Let me go!” shouted their squirmy new friend, as Katara held him around the middle, because otherwise he’d have thrown himself into the ocean an alarming number of times by now.

“Nu-huh,” Sokka said, patting the kid’s angry little head, right on its ridiculous little ponytail. Which was nothing at all like his own extremely masculine wolf tail. “You’re our prisoner. Relax, and enjoy the improved living conditions.”

“My father isn’t going to pay for me,” the kid said back, with a glower.

“...Please, please don’t tell me that Zhao guy was your dad.”

“What? No,” the kid said.

And then he opened his mouth again, and Sokka’s world got both way more complicated and way more simple.

#so to return to an earlier question #did you get that scar on the ship or at home?#I see I see #and you need the Avatar to go home #yes yes #so hypothetically speaking #I could put you and the Avatar at the head of a fleet #and we could just… sail into your nation’s capital?#noted #avatar the last airbender #atla #Zuko #ficlet

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t3a-tan · 8 months

Note

What would James do if he found a borrower child by themselves? Especially if Oliver wasn’t there to help?

Oh I don't know... Probably something like... This!! >:)

---

"Oliver?"

James was a bit surprised to hear something fall in his kitchen— mainly because Oliver usually greeted him when he arrived…not to mention that he told James just a couple days ago that he would be busy for the week and wouldn't be visiting during that time.

James turned off the TV and stood up, doing some much needed stretching after having sat down lazing about for most of the day. He paused as he heard more rattling in the kitchen, growing concerned. Oliver hadn't responded…was he stuck somewhere?

"You okay, mate? Did something happen and you had to come by early or did you just miss my handsome face that much." He added a bit of humour to his words as he walked into the kitchen, immediately recognizing that the noise had been coming from the sink. His eyes widened. "Shit— hold on…"

Without wasting any time he carefully picked up the various dishes and cups that were piled in the sink in an effort to find where Oliver had managed to get himself trapped. He wouldn't have been too worried if not for the fact that the dishes were all currently soaking in warm water, and if Oliver was stuck then he might also not be able to breathe.

Eventually his hand brushed against something that didn't feel like dishes or bits of food that were floating about it the water, and without even checking to make sure he was correct James hastily pulled his friend out of the water, making sure to pick up the plate that had trapped his leg first to avoid injury. He pulled the plug out too to keep the incident from repeating.

"Fuck— are you okay? Please don't drown in my sink, that would be a...a… um." James trailed off, freezing up as he watched a young child shuddering and hacking up water whilst in his hands.

"You aren't Oliver…" He murmured, slightly in awe of that fact. He hadn't held another borrower besides Oliver before— he had interacted very distantly with some borrowers that Oliver was in the process of rescuing once, but they hadn't spoken a word to him…let alone allowed him to carry them.

It was surreal. Even though Oliver let James poke and prod and carry him as much as James wanted (with permission of course), it never felt that crazy because…well… Oliver acted very normal. Sometimes James even forgot he was the size of his thumb if he hadn't looked at him for a while.

This was different, because this was new. Oliver had never put much significance to James carrying him or touching him, but he had always reminded James not to grab or touch or pick up any other borrowers he found—

Oh.

"Uhh hey kid. You alright?" James spoke, thankful that the boy was at least awake. Coughing up the water was a good sign, right? Better than not coughing it back up at least… James leaned in closer to try to see how the child was doing physically.

He was rewarded with a terrified squeal, one that startled him so bad he very nearly dropped the poor kid. Not that it would have mattered, because the kid scrambled back away from his face so quickly that they toppled over the edge of his palm anyway.

"Shoot—"

James's hands quickly shot down to catch them, and he was relieved when his fingers managed to catch on the kid's little bag. For a moment James was intrigued by the tiny pack, only to quickly focus on the panicking kid that was kicking and shoving at the air in hopes of escaping.

"Careful there, kid. Here, I'll put you down…nice and gentle, see? Nothing to be— hey!" James was in the process of lowering the tiny child onto the kitchen counter, but the moment he released them they made a run for it. James didn't hesitate to slam his hand down in front of them, stopping the kid in their tracks.

"I'm not done with you yet, kid. Will you just— OW! Fu—rick..!" James cursed (or almost did) as he suddenly found the sharp end of a sewing needle getting jabbed into the base of his thumb. He thought borrowers carried those to fight off predators! Why was this kid stabbing him??

Once the initial shock of the needle wore off it no longer hurt, and so James pulled it out with ease. He shoved it in his pocket before levelling the kid with furrowed brows and a deep frown on his face.

"Right then you—"

"P-please don't kill me..!" A tiny cry of terror caused all of James's frustrations to disappear in the blink of an eye. He watched with halted breath as the child curled into a shaking ball and covered their head…cowering. From him.

James's heart sunk. Oliver said other borrowers would be scared, but he never explained how scared. James had always assumed they'd be more nervous than terrified— Oliver after all had zero fear of James when they first met. He was the one approaching James after all.

But here James was, looming over a tiny kid who apparently thought he was a murderer. James's hand fell away from the counter quickly, now hovering close by with worry.

"Hey now… I'm not gonna…kill you." Despite his attempt at reassurance the kid remained curled up in terror. James sighed. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking— didn't notice you were so scared. I won't do anything to you, okay? I'm just surprised. Oliver said I didn't have any borrowers in my house."

Thinking that maybe mentioning he knew what borrowers were might help. It seemed he was off his game today…

The tiny child's wide eyes turned onto him, face as pale as a ghost. James bristled, not expecting such a visceral response.

"I'm… I'm not a bad human." The words left James's mouth, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself than reassuring the kid at that moment. He had taken Oliver's nonchalance for granted it seemed, because right now he felt like nothing more than a monster.

The kid had gone back to burying their head in their knees, visibly shaking, silently heaving in a way that made it clear they were crying. James felt worse and worse for the kid by the second.

"How old are you..? Where are your parents?" James wished Oliver was here. He would know what to do— not to mention that this kid wouldn't be shit scared of him.

After receiving no response, James reached forward slowly, very lightly tapping the child's back to check if they had heard him.

"T-ten…! I don't know where they are— p-please let me go…" They sobbed, now openly crying without their face buried in the fabric of their shoddily made clothing. James winced.

He would let the kid go… but if they didn't know where their parents were then that wasn't a good idea. But was keeping them a much better one? Would Oliver be mad at him for keeping them? Would he be mad if he let a kid go alone?

He decided not to respond to the plea, focusing on the answers he had received instead.

"Are you lost? I can get you back home if you need it, kid. No fare to pay either." He joked, but neither he nor the child laughed. He doubted the tiny child even understood what a fare was.

"L-let me go…." They begged again. James pursed his lips awkwardly, not responding. If he said no the kid would panic more, and if he said yes then he'd be lying.

"I have chocolate..? Even borrower kids must love chocolate, huh? Let me fetch it…" James moved back away from the tiny kid, although he hesitated while looking down at them from this perspective. They were so tiny… being around someone as confident and assertive as Oliver had made him forget just how minuscule and fragile borrowers were compared to him.

"I'll… hang on." He turned, rummaging through a cabinet and trying not to focus too hard on how colossally he must be screwing things up. "Where did I..? Did I finish it or something…? Oh! Here—"

When James finally found the fruit and nut chocolate bar he turned back to the kid only to find an empty countertop, with a little puddle of dishwater left in their place. He saw wet prints and followed them to one of his outlet covers which was slightly askew… the kid had escaped.

Rather than calling out and scaring them more, James sighed. He looked down at his hand, trying to remember what it felt like to hold them in it moments ago. He then shook his head, putting the chocolate bar down on the counter before pulling the sewing needle back out of his pocket and putting it down next to it. He glanced towards the wall the kid was probably currently hiding in. Hiding from him.

"Your needle is on the side… and chocolate. I'm going out, okay? Just don't get hurt please." He spoke with a slightly raised tone to make sure they heard him. Then, with some hesitation, James stepped away from the counter. He put on his shoes, grabbed his keys and left.

Please don't die.

#g/t community #g/t #ocs #borrowers #g/t artist #giant/tiny #borrower au #g/t au #ask box #oc asks #ask #g/t fearplay #g/t writer #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing

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jben073 · 4 months

Text

Grace Chasity headcanon rambles!

Some silly Grace hcs for @nighthaterfrfr!! I tried to mostly avoid any of mine that you mentioned something similar to in yours bc we had a good deal of overlap! :D

(Just to preface, one of my biggest headcanons is that Grace is autistic so there’s a good chance that some of these may be influenced by that! I did try to pick ones that are more applicable to canon though! [But if anyone wants any of those, I have about a million :3])

When Grace was a young child in elementary school (or Sunday school), she very innocently kissed Alice Woodward and felt something™. (She entirely represses this memory for YEARS.)

^ During her eventual sexuality crisis, despite not having talked to Alice for years outside of polite conversation if they ran into one another, Grace reaches out to her for support/to ask questions because she was the only out queer person that Grace knew and trusted enough not to out her. (Alice big sister mode activated.)

^ (They’re so silly, they’ve literally never interacted outside of a throwaway line about them knowing and possibly disliking each other but to me they're friends who fell apart and eventually find each other again when they're both more grown as people.)

^ Also, ignore me indulging my other biggest hc which is that Grace is a lesbian.

Grace took piano lessons as a child and is actually quite good because she wanted to be the pianist for her church’s masses when she got older! She stopped taking lessons in high school, but she keeps up with playing in her free time to maintain the skill and occasionally help out with music at her church.

^ Richie constantly tries to convince her to learn anime openings and music from games that he plays for him (he begged her to learn Megalovania for weeks until she finally gave in).

She has never celebrated Halloween because her parents think it’s satanic so Ruth and Richie (who definitely still go trick-or-treating in high school) make a point to bring her some of their candy on the following school day.

^ She definitely doesn’t cry about this gesture later when she goes home!!

She is an absolute monster while playing board games, like she gets REALLY aggressive about them.

^ (definitely influenced by Angela's chaos on smosh games, especially the “be a little more gentle!! >:(” clip)

She can’t go to sleep (intentionally) without getting a kiss goodnight. At home, her parents kiss her on the forehead before bed and if she’s at camp, she has to get a kiss on the head from Girl Jeri if she wants to sleep well.

^ It disrupts her routine which makes it harder for her to wind down!!

^ I like to think that before the events of Abstinence Camp, she thought of Boy Jerry and Girl Jeri as older sibling figures.

She has never been to a sleepover because she’s never had good enough friends to be invited to one :(

^ The nerds + Steph very quickly remedy this!!

^ (quick ramble related to the last hc) During the first group sleepover, Steph wakes up in the middle of the night to get a drink, realizes Grace is still up, and after Grace sheepishly admits her dilemma following Steph’s prompting for an explanation, Steph very casually plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes back to sleep. Grace’s face is beet red after this and now she can’t sleep for an entirely different reason.

^ They're in love to me!!!

LIB related

(Based almost entirely on Blinky’s line about watching Grace and the nightmare about Max/Richie that implies she has the gift.)

^ Grace has been connected to the Lords in Black since long before we see her, Steph, and Pete summon them in NPMD.

^ Much like Lex was friends with Webby as a child and forgot, Grace was friends with the LIB when she was young but grew out of it.

^ (I have a whole little overanalysis/hc set of things for this hc if anyone wants to hear :3)

After she starts using the Black Book, her appearance starts to very slightly change so that she always looks just a tiny bit off.

^ Her teeth are just a touch too sharp, her ears have the slightest point to them, and her eyes almost seem to shift in colour (depending on which LIB is influencing her).

^ But hey, it must just be a trick of the light!! She's so normal!! Dw about it!!!

She will occasionally feel the sudden compulsion to bite others (Nibbly is feeling silly!!)

^ She does not act on this… most of the time :3

One more silly one to end on

She once owned a Tamagotchi and became so deeply stressed over the state of this virtual creature that she made herself sick from anxiety.

^ Karen and Mark confiscated the toy very shortly after this.

Anyway ramble's over now but my 45 page google doc of Grace hcs continues to grow every day bc I am fixated hard on this silly little show :3

edit: had to add the '^' thing because the bullets didn't indent properly for some reason!! every one that has that is attached to the previous one without it!

also idk why on mobile the sleepover hc and the Alice hc got cut short?? The sleepover one is supposed to say that now she can't sleep for an entirely different reason and the end of the second bullet says (Alice big sister mode activated).

#grace chasity #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #starkid #hatchetfield #nightmare time #stephanie lauter #lautity #stephgrace #starkid hcs

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jayoonology · 1 year

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰/ 𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐮

𝗮/𝗻 - procrastinated and then gave birth to this. I low-key want to make the Beomgyu part a proper one shot but idk if I should.

𝘄𝗰 - sb (331), yj (324), bg (346), th (314), hk (290)

Choi Soobin | 최수빈

manga shopping date

It took him weeks and I mean weeks to ask you out. He sits behind you in class and Beomgyu swears Soobin spends more time looking at you than he does at the teacher. From all that creepy staring (as Beomgyu likes to call it) Soobin noticed your wallpaper. Is that jujutsu kaisen..? No way! If it was somehow possible Soobin likes you twice as more. After some (bad) hyping up from Beomgyu and an entire night of pondering he finally decides to ask you out.

Low-key he zoned out while he was talking to you because he couldn’t believe he was actually interacting with you. But somehow he didn’t mess up and asked you if you wanted to check out a manga shop with him. And you said yes?!?! Soobin was still zoned out so didn’t actually process it till later but Beomgyu (who was rudely eavesdropping was SHOCKED)

On the day of the date, however; Soobin was NOT calm. Man was internally freaking out, he must have changed his outfit at least 3 times. When he did make it there he couldn’t help but overthink the entire thing. Are you actually coming? Do you know this is a date? Is he wearing his shirt backwards?

All his fears melted away when he saw you though. The conversations flowed easily and he sort of forgot it was even a date, everything seemed so easy with you. The both of you spent hours at the shop, browsing and recommending each other series. Most of the time both of you were just freaking out that they had every single jjk manga, even the super rare first edition ones. And by the end of the date the both of you had two heavy bags full of books. You two agreed you’ll never have a date again at the manga store as you’re both most definitely broke now.

“Next time we should go to watch the new jjk movie!”

“next time?” MAN WAS OVERJOYED!!!!!

Choi Yeonjun | 최연준

chill evening at roof top bar

you and Yeonjun both work the same shift and for months now there’s been so much playful tension between the both of you. Enough to make your coworkers think there’s something going on. Now Yeonjun can’t lie, he does like you a little bit (a lot) and he admits you’re gorgeous (the most breathtaking person he’s ever seen) but he also knows that you’re his coworkers and things could become awkward (he’s too much of a pussy) This game of cat and dog had been going on for a while now and frankly, you’ve had enough of waiting for Yeonjun to make the first move. If he isn’t going to do it, you’ll do it yourself. So you super confident go up to him and don’t waste any time on pleasantries.

“Yeonjun there’s a new rooftop bar that opened down the street, do you want to go—”

“Yes.”

Literally the two of you bolt the second your shift was done. This is your first time seeing Yeonjun outside of work, and there was something different about it. The two of you seemed even more unhinged, even more flirty. You didn’t even need alcohol turns out you just needed to leave that grey office. When you were at the bar the two of you ordered almost every drink on the menu and refused to leave before closing getting absolutely wasted. It was fun sitting on a skyscraper looking at the tiny people below you.

As far as first dates go, it must have been the most brilliant one you’ve been on. You and Yeonjun didn’t leave a single topic uncovered discussing popcorn flavours to white sand beaches. And you have to admit, it was kinda cute how Yeonjun got wasted, he looked like a lovesick boy. And then there was when drunk Yeonjun went on a tangent about everything he likes about you. (you made sure to never let him hear the end of that)

Choi Beomgyu | 최범규

vinyl shopping

So Beomgyu ended up getting a vinyl player from Hyuka for his birthday, the only problem is, he doesn’t have any vinyl albums. So now he has two options:

Sell the vinyl player and make some cash.

Ask his pretty roommate to go vinyl shopping with him and blow his entire paycheck.

Logically, Beomgyu chose the latter. He isn’t exactly sure when he started developing a crush on you, he just knows that one day he woke up and no one seemed to matter except you. But there’s a little bit of a problem, how is he going to make the outing seem like a date? As roommates you practically do everything together, this needs to be special. He knows that you like music and him buying your favourite vinyls could be called romantic but with no previous warning, it’s just platonic.

He’s determined to make this seem special, but how? Naturally, he watched a romcom, sure he could have consulted his friends but they’re bitchless anyway: how could they have even helped. He landed on getting you flowers, that’s the most romantic thing a guy can give you right? So the next day as you get ready he quickly runs to the grocery store and back and gets you a bouquet of tulips, awkwardly handing them to you.

“uh what’s this?”

“flowers.”

“but why?”

“cause this is a date.”

“okay cool.”

OKAY COOL? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Does that mean you like him too? Does that mean you’re uncomfortable? You can see the gears turning in Beomgyu’s head and figure you should probably help the poor boy out. You grab his hand, dragging him out of the apartment. Beomgyu’s face was pinker than the tulips he got you.

You two spent the entirety of the afternoon picking out cool records you found at the shop (and emptying Beomgyu’s pockets) buying the most obscure music you could find. Despite the long day, it was rewarding cause the two of you just chilled the rest of the day, playing the music you bought and eating takeout.

Kang Taehyun | 강태현

escape room

You and Taehyun have been project partners for a while now and instead of completing your project, Taehyun has spent more time falling for you. He’d vowed to himself that 2023 was going to be the year he was going to focus on school but here you come knocking his walls down.

Now Taehyun knew for sure he was going to ask you out, it was clear to the both of you that you liked each other, you were just patiently waiting for Taehyun to make the first move. The dilemma is, Taehyun doesn’t know where to take you. Sure he could be a basic bitch and take you out to the movies or a restaurant but you were more important than that. He wanted you to enjoy and remember the first date. He thought of many things like bowling or going to a school game together but they’re so crowded and loud, how will he be able to focus on you?

It was like a eureka moment when it struck him while having a shower. He could take you to an escape room! It’s private and fun, plus teamwork. The two of you were good at that (despite not finishing your project that was set 2 months ago) When he proposes it to you, you were overjoyed. Not only have you been waiting for Taehyun to make a move, but he also made the perfect move.

You work together to decipher the clues and solve the puzzles, using your teamwork and problem-solving skills to make your way through the room. Taehyun's quick wit and intelligence are a valuable asset, and you can feel yourself growing more and more impressed by him with each passing moment (his plan is working !!) now not only did you and Taehyun enjoy working together and talking about your interests, but it was also the most memorable date you’ve been on.

Huening Kai | 정카이

create your own plushie workshop

You’ve been trying to go on a date with Kai for weeks but something or another always comes up. First, you two had a planned a picnic and it turns out it was going to rain, then he gets called to pull an emergency shift, and then your car breaks down. You’ve been wondering if it’s a sign from the universe, the universe is definitely against picnics and you know what it’s fine, who wants to sit on the grass surrounded by weird bugs anyway?

So you decide to come up with something new, something fresh and better. So scour the internet for new events happening in your hometown. Wait, what’s that? A plushie-making workshop? If that isn’t the universe giving you a sign you don’t know what is. Kai loves plushies and wait for it, it’s happening this Saturday when the both of you don’t have work. It’s perfect.

So you call up Kai, telling him to write it down in permanent marker cause there’s no way in hell that this date is going to get cancelled. Luckily the two of you make it there early and basically have the workshop all to yourself. With the help of the instructor, you work on making a plushie together.

Of course, it had all the essentials, plus a little note the two of you wrote, hiding it in the stuffing on the plushie. Your plushie was perfect in every way and the icing on top was that you got to make it with the guy you’ve been crushing on for ages.

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mrscarpenter · 2 months

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Part 3

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟎

It was march first, a day before Elvis left germany. Noah had been browsing the stores trying to find something to give to him as a farewell gift, when she stumbled upon a newspaper. Noah never liked newspapers, didn’t really understand what was so interesting about them. Maybe she didn’t like them out of spite for her annoyingly strict father, who read them every morning over a cup of coffee and a plate with french toast for breakfast.

The newspaper was titled as “Elvis Presley, coming home.” And thats when the puzzle clicked into place for Noah, now she knew why he always seemed so familiar like she had seen him before. Elvis wasn’t just a normal guy in the army hoping for fame, he already had it. Noah cursed herself for not realizing sooner, she had listened to his songs countless of times, and he sang to her many times during their visits.

That same night when she met up with Elvis, she confronted him. “Why didn’t you tell me, Elvis?”

“Ah- honey, listen t’ me. Everybody knows who i am, you are the only person who treated me normally, is all.”

Noah sighed and grabbed hold of his hands, “i will always treat you like a normal person Elvis,” she pauses for a moment before lightly hitting him in the shoulder, “but i still would’ve liked to know.”

𝐀 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫

Banging echoed all throughout the car, as fans tried to catch Elvis’ attention. Noah wore a scarf around her head, she had overslept and had barely any time to sort out her hair. Plus, her mother was convinced that “a true lady looks fashionable and stylish in public, its a classy thing to do.” Noah didn’t believe in any of that crap, but nonetheless did as her mother told. And Noah didn’t exactly want a picture of her messy locks plastered on every newspaper. Its what Elvis warned her about after all, kept telling her that reporters were brutal and would make up all kinds of things about him, and Noah herself aswel now that she’s spotted with him.

The flashes that blitzed through the windows made Noah’s heart race, she wiped a stray tear away even though she knew it couldn’t be seen from the outside. One hand was clutched tightly in Elvis’ as she tried to remain calm, even though her heart was breaking at the thought of having to miss him. It was like he was her lifeline in Germany, he was the only person she interacted with beside her family.

“Oh Elvis, i’m gonna miss you so very much. I wish you didn’t have to go.” There was a tiny crack in her voice as another tear ran down her cheek, “shh, honey. It’ll be okay, you just keep writing to me and ah’ll keep writing back to you.” Elvis paused as the car stopped, they both knew it was time to say a final goodbye, “Now wipe em’ tears away, i don’t wanna see a sad face looking back at me when i wave goodbye.” With that, he gave Noah a kiss on the cheek, and before she could say another word he was out of the car, and her car door was opened.

She stepped out and tried not to flinch at all of the flashes going off in her face, semi-blinded by the flashes, she gets lead through the crowd by a hand that had slipped in hers. Elvis turns to her before he has to let her go, and hands her a ring, it was a ring with his initials on it, kinda like the one Elvis wore, but smaller and more of a delicate design. “Had this made ‘specially for you, honey. Treat it with care.”

“I will Elvis, i’m gonna miss you so much, i don’t want you to leave. Can’t i come with you?” She blurted out the words frantically, but quietly not wanting to make a scene, as Noah knew, Elvis would not like that. “I wish you could, doll, but don’t worry, we’ll talk soon. I’m not gonna forgot about you, my lady.” His words were whispered in the hope that nobody would hear but her, and her words in return were also whispered. “And i won’t forget about you, my man.”

It seemed like forever went by as Elvis turned around one last time on the top of the steps and waved at everyone down below, including his girl, Noah-Rae, who waved back at him, doing her best to keep the fake smile plastered on her face.

That very evening when she got home, she skipped dinner and instead laid down in bed and sobbed into her own pillow. Oh how she would miss him.

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shinakazami1 · 5 months

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TSP ramble: TK and the Narrator's relationship

@stelar-time was thinking about TK and The Narrator so I decided to make a small ramble about one of the ways I see their relationship

TL;DR Narry and TK might actually tolerate each other and have found a common enemy

---

The Narrator seems to look at everything in his Parable as his original creation. TK is no different, as we already have the admission from Davey himself that TK=432. But just like you change the lore of your OCs, the fact the games could be stretched for 10 years does show how much could have been changed in The Narrator's perception.

We meet TK in the form of The Settings Person but the way TK presents himself later - it seems the 432's travel beyond dimension gets him beyond the Narrator's reach too...Which is fair, as we never see the Narrator really interact with the menu- or...does he.

Bumpscosity. One small tiny gag but the implications of it are massive. Like sure - the Narrator and Cookie9 maybe forgot you can mute the Narrator in-menu, but Narry reacts to the level of Bumpscosity you set and has a full achievement for checking all the settings.

Now why would he know only that and not TK's existence? There is that issue of Narry not being omniscient and often showing he doesn't know shit (Broken achievement) but...he made the world of the Parable, possibly. He made all these NPCs and he, in some way, made Stanley, too.

So - why since TSPUD is overall a love letter to both Player and Stanley, let it be to Parable, too? To a representation of the most tormented OC yet? But now - the thing about Memory Zone is that it wasn't meant to be decay. It's what the name says - a sanctuary for memories.

Look *where* it is though. This part isn't in the original Memory Zone. There are reviews that weren't there before and that proves something - that the Narrator purposefully put them. And at the end, at the very end of the road - there it is.

The only room not covered in sand.

And yet somehow - this is the computer TK is in. It could have been any computer at all in the Parable but TK is there, waiting for you patiently, in the room best preserved, with its own light.

For me - the Narrator doesn't hate TK. Even if TK seems to resent him.

The Narrator knows he can't escape. He wants to move on yet - seeing how long he was in the Skip Button, I think he already tried everything. So, when he was waiting for us to return - that was plenty of time to get out of the bounds. To revisit old projects and make new ones.

But look at TK's lines in this part.

Did you read what the developers said?? "Preserve the integrity of the franchise"?! You see, that was the Narrator's problem. He was so obsessed with what people thought of his work. Don't make his mistake. Don't cling to the legacy. Let it burn.

He talks about the Narrator in the past tense. This can be seen as a critique but I think it can also be seen as a warning of something he and the Narrator talked about since the Narrator wanted to let go. He learnt from his mistake.

Why was Narry then so surprised about the broken achievement? He possibly worried about the devs being brought back. About him thinking he got everything in control by making new versions of the endings and already discussing it all behind the camera with TK and then leaving them

But that's just a theory. A shina-way-too-long-once-again-at-2-am-fuck-me-why-do-I-do-this-to-everyone theory.

#my ramblings #tsp #theory #tk #narrator #timekeeper #settings person #the tettings person #432 #the narrator #tspud #the stanley parable #nobody gonna see it but my brain is fire

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